All Our Yesterdays
by RueRoyale
Summary: little women. Amy dies and Jo helps Teddy deal with the loss finding herself becoming increasing attracted to him all over again.


December 2, 2003

All Our Yesterdays

RueRoyale

It is many years later that our story takes place from when we left off our girls Meg, Jo, and Amy. Mr. March died 5 years after the day we left off, and Mrs. March died 2 years later. Meg was happy and satisfied with the hand life dealt her, and bore another child with John Brooke, a daughter, and named her Beth. Jo lived with Friedreich Bhaer and was pleased. She gave up writing, on the wishes of Friedreich, and now that he is old and feeble and can't get to his classes unless she helps him, she takes care of him and helps him run their school. They are extremely poor, now that they have few students. Amy and Laurie traveled together to many places on the globe, but finally settled back in his grandfather's mansion. Laurie himself became a respectable gentleman and did indeed go into business as his grandfather wanted him to. Amy became a rich American mistress, attending parties and making calls all the time. If any of her sisters are in financial trouble, she asks for money from Laurie and she sends it to them.

Here is where our story picks up.

Amy had never wanted children after her first daughter died, thinking them burdensome and disrupting to her house and home. She didn't want to become poor and ordinary, and thought children would bring an end to her flourishing social life. She didn't want to bear any pain either, and thought the pregnancy would not be good for her figure. But Laurie was eager to start a family with her, and pleaded and pleaded, but Amy would have none of it.

At one party at Mr. Wingham's mansion, Amy sat as prim and lovely as usual chatting away with Mrs. Chelsea Wingham, whom she was not able to see for 7 months because of Mrs. Wingham's pregnancy. Now however, she finally came and was chatting away with Chelsea, and her son in her lap.

"How was the labor?"

" Excruciating. But look what became of it? My adorable son Eric, who will become a proud and accomplished man."

"It is all worth it, isn't it?"

"Oh yes! Of course."

"I would go through that as well, if it was for such a beautiful result." Amy said, as what she thought was an appropriate comment for the moment. But Laurie was near, and having heard this, seized the opportunity, said…

"Why don't you?" as he walked over to where Amy and Chelsea were seated on the couch. He took a sear next to Amy.

Amy flustered a bit, and gave Laurie a stern look, which Chelsea did not catch. But she had no good answer that would not betray her plain dislike of children. Since childhood she has tried to get away from childhood. She has wanted to be lady-like and proper. She has hated childish behavior. She was not about to let childhood enter her life again. She loved Laurie with all her heart and to him she owed everything she had, but this was one childhood trauma she could not let go of, and no one could've made her do anything except herself.

Amy was very agitated at this moment, and getting no help from Laurie, turned back to Chelsea and leaned forward as in a confidential manner and quietly and convincingly said to her, "Oh I want to, and we are trying; oh do tell no one else of this matter. I would be so very ashamed if you did."

Now Chelsea was a gossipy but simple girl and she kept her promises but just this one she did not keep. When her friends made a call, they all asked and preened about her baby, talking about the latest births and sharing gossip. What a tempting scenario that is! Chelsea now had gossip about birth, and she could not help telling her friends.

A week later, Amy was at Mary Clyde's opulent estate, and Mary asked her with a knowing look, "How's your baby doing? Any luck? If you want I can give you something to help the, well, you know."

You can imagine Amy's reaction. She was utterly and completely shocked. She didn't even know what exactly she was talking about, though she had a good idea. She feigned innocence first, just to see what it was that Mary had in mind. "Whatever do you mean?" she said, "I don't know what it is you are speaking of."

But Mary answered with a deliberateness characteristic of gossipy girls who meddle with other peoples' business, "You don't have to hide anything from me. I know you and your lovely husband are trying to have a child. But if you want to do things in a traditional way, go right ahead."

When Amy got home she was in near hysterics, crying and nearly blinded by her tears. As she came through the front door of her and Laurie's house, the servants all rushed at her offering to get her some brandy or some belladonna or some good food. But Amy pushed them all away and ran up the stairs nearly tripping on her dress. She threw open the door to the study. Finding no one there she threw open the door to the library. Then she threw open the door to the den, and found Laurie inside sitting by the window drinking tea and reading the newspaper.

Poor Amy ran to him and Laurie enfolded her in his arms, whispering shushing noises and "it's alright's" and "just tell me what's wrong's".

In between sobs Amy tried to explain, but most of what came out of her mouth was unintelligible. But Laurie caught some words. Among them were "baby, Chelsea, we try". And from that Laurie interpreted the meaning. He continued to try to calm Amy down, though he was quite happy underneath. When Amy was able to talk without sobbing, she told him…

"Chelsea Wingham told all her friends that we are trying to have a baby, Laurie! They are offering me herbs and drinks! I can't accept. Then they'll expect pregnancy! What am I to do Teddy, what am I to do!" Amy cried desperately. "I am going to have to do something to stop this, but I don't know what!"

"We'll think of something dear, we will. You'll be fine. Nothing you don't want to happen will happen," Laurie said reassuringly. However he was hoping that Amy would in fact conceive with him.

That night, Amy and Laurie went up to their bedroom because Amy wanted to speak with him privately. Laurie opened the door and Amy stepped in.

After taking a sweeping gaze of their rich surroundings, Amy started, "Teddy, I've thought about it, and have discovered there is no reasonable reason for why I don't want to have children." She looked down, then up at Laurie. "And I think it is time to put away this foolish fear. I know you want children, and I have just learned there is no basis for my refusal. So let's," said Amy decidedly.

Laurie's heart leapt at those words, and not bothering to hide the smile on his face, said, "Thank you, Amy. You will discover that children are not one of life's burdens, but one of its joys."

Amy's pregnancy was very trying on Laurie, for she was very anxious of what her friends might think of her growing girth, and complained often, but other times she would suddenly break into a long fit of sobs, saying that she was worried about how she would raise her baby, and what her baby would think of his mother. Laurie kept reminding her that she was loved by him so she would be loved by her child, and that there would be no problems, and there would be far more joys than troubles, but to no avail. Those are simply the anxieties of a soon-to-be- mama, and cannot be prevented or stopped.

When the time finally came for the baby to arrive, Laurie remained faithfully by her side, while she cried and screamed. For 9 hours he was stood next to her, never going away even for the shortest time, watching over and comforting his suffering wife. He deserved a rest, he did. He was told to go out for some fresh air by the doctor, and so he went to relieve himself. So he was not there, to see his wife gasp for breath, nor did he see her widen her eyes, claw out for the loving and loyal husband that was for once when she most needed him, not there. The midwife employed to see the delivery quickly hurried to her side and called out for Laurie in her loudest voice. Laurie heard and rushed to the room where Amy was. He thought he saw a smile on her face when he came into the room, and hear her last sigh a sigh of relief and happiness. He took the midwife's place and her hand, kissing the wet forehead in the gentlest and most soothing manner possible, but Amy had already closed her eyes forever, and the doctor was saying to continue on with the birth. It seemed as if she was just waiting for the sight of her husband before she went.

Another hour later, when Laurie was pacing in the hallway outside the delivery room, with a grim face on that had cried tears, but now was just pale with sorrow, when the doctor came out and handed Laurie a snugly wrapped bundle.

"It's a girl," he said. He then hesitated. "Your wife is dead."

And Laurie unabashedly broke into a fit of new tears.

The funeral was large and stylish, and just like she wanted it. All the family was there. Meg, John, Freidreich, Jo, Demi and Daisy, even Florence, the cousin whose mother had provided for Amy's European visit, the one in which she and Laurie had gotten married. All Amy's friends were there, and there was a lot of mourning and sadness in the air. The family had gathered together and talked about Amy afterward, at Laurie's mansion. Laurie had brought the baby to the funeral, and held her all the way through it, the living memory of his late and beloved wife.

They tried to comfort him, all of them, but it was useless. Laurie just kept rocking his daughter, who he had chosen to name after her dead mother. He mostly kept quiet, though they were all asking questions in good intentions.

"I feel so sad that she died, but it is so good that you have a living piece of her."

"Amy would be so happy you are here to take care of your baby."

"I would be glad to help you take care of your baby."

Laurie was mainly unresponsive. But suddenly, as if it were sparked from looking at his daughter's face, looked up and said…

"She would have been a great mother, you know. Now I don't know what to do without her."

"I will help you care for her. You can ask me anytime." Meg said, and took the little Amy from Laurie's arms.

"I know. I know. Thank you all, but I think that I will just have to let time do its work. Thank you again for your help, but I will be able to do it by myself. You have to deal with your own grief you know that."

"Yes but we want to help you. We know her death affected you in a way it could never affect one of us. Just the circumstances of her death…" Jo trailed off.

Laurie could not take it anymore. It was too much. To think that not only had his beloved wife died; she had died because of him. At least he thought this. He blamed himself for Amy's death, and noone knew, and I doubt that if they did know, they could convince him otherwise.

"It is ok, Jo. I will be fine. I will be fine," he said, as if trying to convince himself that it was true. "You can all go home now. I – I think that I just need some time alone."

"No!" Jo exclaimed. "I will not allow you to stay here and wallow in your misery! You must do something! You are Laurie! Go back to work! Be a man! Do anything, but don't sit around and be idle! Mother always told me work helped make us happy. And so far not a word of what mother has said was not true."

"No, Jo. It is truly alright. Go on home, all of you. Please. I beg you."

"Alright, fine." Jo said belligerently, "but don't expect me to just accept you like this. I will come around and check on you every once in a while, so don't even think of staying in your present state for a long time, Teddy!"

"Don't!" Laurie cried out, looking away, "that was her name for me."

"Oh Laurie, Laurie." Jo said with a reproving yet sympathetic look. It was my name first." Jo looked away, then "Oh my poor darling, don't worry. It will get better with time." She got up and put her arms around him.

"How can it!" Laurie burst. He pushed Jo off. "How will it, I ask! You expect me to just, just forget her? I will _forget_ Amy. She is not the type of person you forget!"

"She will become a part of you! Of course you won't forget her," said Jo, who was beginning to get as heated as Laurie. "You will love her more than you possibly can. You will let her live in you!"

Laurie sat quiet for a moment, and then, as if the weariness had finally gotten to him, he sunk slightly into the chair. "Please, just let me be."

And out of pity for him, and maybe out of sadness from herself, Jo looked to the others, and said resignedly, "yes, let's go." She leant and kissed Laurie on the cheek, then went out.

At Plumfield, though after offering to help Laurie with his problems, Jo had lots of problems of her own. Friedrich had just broken out into one of his frightful coughing fits, and Jo was trying all her best to comfort his cough.

She was patting him gently on the back, and rubbing his shoulders with her free hand. Fritz had his hand over his mouth, Jo's handkerchief in his hand. With his other hand he was pounding his chest. Jo's brows knit with worry, she held his shoulder comfortingly.

For some time Friedrich hacked into her kerchief, eyes slitted with pain. At last he pulled his hand away, breathing deeply, as if he'd run the mile race, and smiled at Jo. His lips were darkly stained, and Jo's alarm increased sharply. Roughly she grabbed Friedrich's hand, turning the kerchief over. Burgundy blood lay flowered on the white cloth.

End chapter 1


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